


Blanket

by yuffiehighwind



Series: An Eternity in Cheese Country [41]
Category: Hercules: The Legendary Journeys, Xena: Warrior Princess
Genre: Dual Identity, F/M, Gen, Milwaukee, Modern Era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-01-01
Updated: 2008-01-01
Packaged: 2017-11-28 20:53:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/678781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuffiehighwind/pseuds/yuffiehighwind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Discord would try and put every iota of memory into her eyes so he would see and remember being immortal once.</p>
            </blockquote>





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**Author's Note:**

> This is part of the 'fic series "An Eternity in Cheese Country," and here's why - after they were killed by Callisto and Xena, the souls of Strife, Discord, and Deimos were reincarnated in the late 20th century into three humans named Steve, Veronica, and Dave.

“There is much more to life than fucking,” she murmured.

“I beg to differ,” came his reply, rolling over to pull her closer, tightening his grip on her waist.

Discord’s dreams were starting to distress her. Strife moving out and leaving her his apartment distressed her. Paying rent and signing a lease distressed her. Being unable to say no to Deimos…

They lay on the floor, then, on the rug she had picked out because the decor needed a distinct change. Strife’s departure had left, well, a Strife-sized hole in the little apartment that Discord felt compelled to fill with stuff. Lots and lots of stuff.

But not his stuff. So she made Strife take his couch, and his easel, and his paints and charcoal and teapot and sheets. His Strife-scented sheets.

Discord and Strife would lie in his bed looking up at the ceiling, not touching at all, side by side, as if trying to stare through to the heart of the sun (like they used to). Discord would try her hardest to remember how to seduce with words, to recount their other life together as though she were Homer himself. But Strife couldn’t remember anymore. He’d try to, and sometimes he’d get bits and pieces of it right. Sometimes they’d lay on their sides gazing into each other’s eyes and she could see a glimmer of recognition there. But usually they’d laugh before anything significant happened, and they’d fall to pieces, rolling around holding their sides, gasping for air. Which was just as well, because this was what she had missed of him most of all.

Discord would try and put every iota of memory into her eyes so he would see and remember being immortal, once.

But as time passed, the less sure Discord became that it had happened at all. So she and Strife were sitting in the kitchen one morning eating cereal and watching the weatherman when she said, “You can move on now.”

He looked at her then with that gaze she had craved, three thousand years coming back all at once. But Discord just watched the weather forecast and through the corner of her eye, Strife merely looked surprised. Kinda like a gaping fish. It was funny.

So he moved on, and she let him. He fell in love with a human, which made her happy, though she pretended not to show it. And he left, saying he’d return to check in on her. As he left (and it had only been a month since) she squeezed his hand and told him she might not be the same when he got back. That she might move on as well. Understanding what she meant, he just smiled. As the door shut, he didn’t notice her tears.

That was the crux of the problem; Discord couldn’t describe her identity crisis to anyone. She knew Strife had gone through it once, but it was almost as though the Fates had plucked threads out of a big Strife blanket, bit by bit, until he was just a napkin and couldn’t notice because he was still rectangular. Discord wished she had been there beside him through it all, because her only other companion in this nightmare was Deimos. Crude, shallow Deimos...

...who was kissing her neck. His touch kept the loneliness at bay, especially in the night when her mortal body ached to sleep but her mind buzzed with centuries of memory. With Strife gone, Discord was left with the noises of the human city and a staticky television set. With no defense from the gunshots and car alarms, the formerly fearless goddess found herself locking the door and straining to stay awake until her body gave out from exhaustion. The sun would rise and she would watch it sullenly, wondering why Apollo wouldn’t come help his little sister.

“What are you thinking?” she asked, trying to ignore the effect Deimos’ hot breath was having on her.

“I’m not.”


End file.
